


My Heart Untravelled Fondly Turns to Thee

by mithrel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-12
Updated: 2009-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin discovers just how far Arthur would go to protect him. Even if it means banishing him from Camelot for nearly ten years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Heart Untravelled Fondly Turns to Thee<

**Author's Note:**

> From an idea by [](http://gtg.livejournal.com/profile)[**gtg**](http://gtg.livejournal.com/) The title is from a poem by Oliver Goldsmith.

“You have to leave.”

“I’m not leaving!”

“Dammit, Merlin, you’re a sorcerer! It’s not safe for you here!”

“It hasn’t been safe for me here since the day I arrived! I belong with you, I’m not leaving!”

Arthur looked at him, and the vulnerability on his face stopped Merlin cold. “Please. Please go. I don’t want you to, but if…if anything happened to you…”

Merlin sighed, drawing in on himself. “Alright, I’ll go. But I still think I belong here!”

***

The next morning he stood at the gates, saying goodbye to Arthur. He’d already said goodbye to Gaius (“Thank you for everything. I learned a lot from you.”) and to Gwen (“I’ll be back soon, don’t worry!”)

“It’s not forever. Just as long as the ban on magic lasts,” Arthur consoled him.

 _As long as your father’s alive, you mean, and gods only know how long that will be._ He nodded. “I know. Arthur…”

“Hm?”

“I’ll miss you.”

Arthur’s face went unreadable, but his voice was choked as he replied, “I’ll miss you too.”

Merlin mounted the horse Arthur had given him, and rode away from Camelot and his destiny, not looking back.

***

He got to Ealdor three days later. People gawked at him as he passed.

He wasn’t surprised. He’d always been considered “An odd ‘un,” before he went off to Camelot, and he’d recently returned with the Prince to help defend the town.

He tied his horse to a tree near his mother’s house and trudged up to the door.

When his mother answered, an incredulous smile lit her features. “Merlin!” she cried hugging him. “What are you doing here?”

Then she caught sight of his expression. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened, it’s just…it’s not safe for me in Camelot anymore.” He stopped, swallowed, then continued, “Arthur sent me away.”

“Oh, Merlin!” his mother hugged him again and he inhaled her familiar scent, his tears wetting her shoulder.

***

“Dear Arthur, I arrived safely in Ealdor. My mother is fine, and sends her love.”

Arthur stopped in surprise at that. He barely knew Hunith. Still, it made him feel warm somehow. He continued reading.

“Nothing much is happening here now, although in a few weeks we’ll have started planting, which means I’ll have to get up early.” Arthur grinned. He could practically hear the dismay in Merlin’s voice.

“I was just writing so you’d know I hadn’t been waylaid by bandits. Hoping to see you soon, Merlin.”

Arthur shook his head, and got out a piece of parchment.

“Dear Merlin, Glad to hear you got home safely, although I don’t think you have much to fear from bandits. I hope the horse served you well. Hopefully you’ll be more successful getting up early to plant than you were to help me. You really were the worst manservant I ever had.”

He had a new one now, Cody. He was punctual, respectful and efficient.

Arthur hated him.

“I might be able to visit you…” He crossed that out. No sense getting Merlin’s hopes up.

“It’s been boring here. There’s a delegation coming from Sussex, which means boring toasts and speeches. I hate feasts sometimes.” _Especially when you’re not there._

“Don’t get discouraged, it won’t be forever. Be well. Arthur.”

***

Reading Arthur’s letter, Merlin smiled, and got out a sheet of the parchment he’d brought with him. “Dear Arthur, Yes, the horse served me well. She’s currently staying in the barn with the oxen, and I’ve been taking care of her.” He doted on the horse, to be honest, because Arthur had given her to him.

“Since when do you not like feasts? You certainly seemed to enjoy them when I was there, attempted stabbings and poisonings notwithstanding.”

“The planting is well underway. We should be finished in another month. Mother is still fine, although she (and I) would like to hear from Gaius. Could you browbeat him into writing? I miss you. Merlin.”

***

Arthur finished reading Merlin’s letter, and put it with the others in a small box. Then he jotted off a quick reply, promising to tell Gaius to write, and went out.

As he walked down the corridor, he heard someone hailing him.

He turned around to see Morgana. He groaned.

“Have you heard from Merlin?”

“I just finished reading his last letter, actually.”

“So when are you going to see him?”

“Oh, come on, Morgana, you know my father will never allow that!”

“Since when has that stopped you?”

He said nothing.

“You’re pining, Arthur. You need to go see him!”

“I am not _pining!_ ” Arthur protested indignantly.

“Oh, really? When was the last time you went hunting? For that matter, why are your knights running you all over the practice field?”

“I want to see him, but I can’t!”

“You should. I know why you sent him away–”

“You do?” Arthur asked suspiciously.

She nodded, and leaned toward him. “He’s a sorcerer.”

Arthur was flabbergasted, not to say hurt. “He told you?” Arthur himself had only found out because Merlin had finally been forced to use his magic in front of him.

But Morgana was shaking her head. “Merlin’s not the only one in danger being here.”

Arthur gaped. “You?”

“You know my nightmares?”

“You didn’t want me to go after the Questing Beast!” he remembered.

She nodded. “I knew what would happen. I saw it.”

“Morgana, are you mad? You should be keeping your head down, not locking horns with my father all the time!”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you,” she sniffed and flounced off.

Arthur sighed, and went to tell Gaius to write to Merlin.

***

Merlin answered a knock at the door one day nearly six months after he’d left Camelot, to find Arthur on the doorstep.

He gaped at him. “Arthur! What are you doing here?”

Arthur looked hurt. “I thought you’d be pleased to see me!”

“I am, I am, it’s just…does your father know?”

Arthur said nothing. Merlin groaned. “You’re going to be in so much trouble when you get back!”

“You’re worth it.” The quiet words seemed to surprise Arthur as much as Merlin.

“I should have written you about coming,” Arthur said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t want to put a strain on your resources–”

“Don’t be stupid,” Merlin told him. “As long as you don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

Arthur grinned.

“Merlin? Who is–” Hunith cut off at the sight of Arthur, dropping into a curtsey. “Your highness.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, stop grovelling,” Arthur protested, and Hunith smiled at him. “And call me ‘Arthur,’ please.”

Merlin gaped at him, but Hunith only smiled. “Alright, Arthur.”

“Here,” Arthur handed Merlin a bundle. “I brought you some more parchment. I know it’s scarce out here.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said. “Well, are you going to stand out there all day, or actually come in?”

***

Arthur stayed in Ealdor for three days.

After her initial awkwardness, Hunith treated him exactly like she treated Merlin, fussing over the state of his clothes, and whether he’d had enough to eat. It was embarrassing, but nice, and he found himself almost envying Merlin for the fact that he’d known his mother.

He’d offered to help with the harvest, although he had no clue what to do, but Merlin pointed out (rather sensibly, he grudgingly admitted) that “having the Crown Prince of _any_ kingdom working in the fields is going to make people nervous, and we don’t need any accidents.”

Since he couldn’t help in the fields, and since most people in Ealdor still held him in awe from the episode with the bandits, he spent a lot of time in Merlin’s house, helping Hunith out.

“If you _ever_ tell anyone about this…” he’d threatened on the second morning of his stay.

“Who would I tell? I’m an exile, remember?” Merlin pointed out. “Besides, it’s not like anyone would believe me if I told them that the Crown Prince of Camelot spent two days peeling carrots!”

Arthur menaced him with the knife he was using, but Merlin only laughed.

Later, when Merlin was out in the fields, Arthur sighed.

“You miss him.”

He started, having forgotten for a moment that Hunith was even there. “Yes, I miss him.”

“He misses you as well. All he ever talks about is when he was your servant.”

“Really?”

She’d smiled at his surprise and ruffled his hair. “Yes, really. You need each other.”

“This _stupid_ ban on magic! I love my father, but _why_ is he so fanatically against sorcerers?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Arthur just sighed again.

That night, lying next to Merlin, he didn’t even feel the hard floor. He was so tempted to just stay in Ealdor, but he couldn’t. He had a duty to his father and his people, no matter how much he missed Merlin. The longer he stayed here, the angrier his father would be when he returned, and the harder it would be to leave.

Still, listening to Merlin breathing in the dark, he felt more at peace than he had in months.

***

Arthur hadn’t brought much with him, mainly clothes, and of course his sword, so he didn’t have much to pack. Merlin managed to slip something into his saddlebags when he wasn’t looking.

When Arthur left, Merlin and his mother both saw him off.

“Take care of yourself, Arthur,” Hunith said, handing him a pack of provisions.

“I will,” Arthur said.

Hunith hugged him. Arthur looked surprised, and somewhat embarrassed, but nonetheless pleased.

Merlin stepped forward, awkwardly, and held out his hand. Arthur shook it, then drew him into an embrace.

Merlin froze, then hugged him back, trying not to cry.

“It won’t be forever.”

“I know,” Merlin said thickly.

As he watched Arthur ride away, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll be able to go back someday,” his mother said.

“But when?”

His mother didn’t answer.

***

As soon as Arthur rode into the courtyard, a page approached him.

“Prince Arthur! The King demands to see you immediately!”

Arthur groaned inwardly. Well, he’d expected this. “Very well. See to my horse and belongings.”

And he headed inside as a stableboy took his horse, rehearsing what he would say to his father.

“Where have you _been?_ ” Uther demanded, as soon as he entered the audience chamber.

“In Ealdor,” he replied. At least they were alone except for the guards.

“ _Ealdor?!_ ” Uther repeated incredulously. “Arthur, what on Earth were you doing there? It’s not even in Camelot!”

“I was visiting Merlin,” he said, and waited for the diatribe he knew was bound to follow that pronouncement.

His father didn’t disappoint him. “ _Merlin?!_ Arthur, the boy is a servant! I shouldn’t have to tell you how wildly inappropriate it is for you to go off without warning, and without seeking my permission, to see a _servant!_ Perhaps it’s better the boy is gone, since you seem to have lost all perspective!”

“Yes, father.” When his father was in this mood, the only thing to do was agree with him. He’d argued with him before, of course, but that was when it was important. Now, the best thing would be to mollify him as best he could.

“Get out of my sight,” Uther commanded, disgusted. “And if you _ever_ do something like this again, I won’t have any qualms about putting you in the dungeons.”

“Yes, father,” Arthur repeated, and left.

***

As he headed toward his rooms, Morgana approached him. “Was it too bad?”

“No, not too bad, considering. He did threaten me with the dungeons if I do it again.”

She grimaced sympathetically. “How’s Merlin?”

“He seems to be doing alright.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes.”

They didn’t say anything more until Arthur reached his chambers, when he bid Morgana farewell.

As he unpacked his clothes, something red fluttered to the floor.

Curious, he picked it up.

It was a square piece of cloth, around two feet on a side, slightly tattered.

He recognised it immediately as Merlin’s favourite neckerchief.

He ran the cloth between his fingers absently, thinking of Merlin, and for one moment tempted to go straight back to Ealdor.

Instead, he buried his face in the cloth, and most certainly did not cry.

***

Merlin’s next letter came several days after he’d arrived back in Camelot.

“Dear Arthur, I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble with your father. We finished the harvest, and should have enough to see us through the winter. The men have been going hunting, and I’ve been going with them.”

 _He’s_ what?! “I’m a fairly good rider now, and we’ve been fairly successful, although we haven’t got anything bigger than a grouse. Hopefully we’ll be able to get a deer sometime soon, since then we can smoke it and have meat in the winter. Hope you write soon, Merlin.”

Arthur had forgotten about the harsh conditions for the peasantry. Merlin had been much skinnier when he first came to Camelot, and the thought of him not having enough to eat was disturbing.

“Dear Merlin, Father was angry with me, and he still isn’t speaking to me, but he’ll come around. I’m glad that the harvest will see you through the winter. You’ve been _hunting?_ For goodness sake, be careful, you know how clumsy you are!”

He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he concluded with, “Give Hunith my love. Arthur.”

***

Arthur didn’t visit him again until more than a year had passed since his last visit. They’d been corresponding regularly, and he got an occasional letter from Gaius, and even one from Gwen (written, she informed him, by Morgana).

Arthur stayed for three days again, and Merlin was happier than he’d been in a year. He didn’t fit in Ealdor anymore, and now that Will was gone, the only person who cared about him was his mother. He didn’t tell Arthur this, since he felt guilty enough about Merlin being gone.

They’d finished harvesting a week before Arthur arrived, and the men were planning to go hunting the next morning.

“Do you want to go?” Merlin asked him.

Arthur looked surprised. “Could I?”

“Sure.”

So Arthur rode out with them. Merlin was a bit nervous about that, but he took orders from the leader the same as everyone else, and with his help they were able to bring down a deer.

They celebrated that night, and Merlin got roaring drunk off cider, much to Arthur’s amusement.

He had a horrible hangover for most of the last day of Arthur’s stay, but Arthur didn’t make fun of him for it.

When Arthur left for the second time, Merlin didn’t leave his room for a week.

***

Uther was incensed when Arthur got back. “I told you if you did anything like this again, I’d put you in the dungeons! Don’t think I’ve forgotten just because it was a year ago!”

Arthur spent the night chained in the dungeons, cold and miserable. He didn’t care.

***

“Dear Merlin, I don’t think I’ll be able to visit you again. Father was rather upset.”

“‘Rather upset,’ sure. Which means the dungeons, most likely.”

Merlin continued reading. “Lancelot’s back. He’s been at Court for almost a week now.”

A completely irrational surge of jealousy rose up in him. He imagined Arthur and Lancelot spending time together, until Arthur forgot about him.

He shook the thought off as ridiculous. “Gwen is quite taken with him, and he’s absolutely enchanted by her. It’s rather sweet, actually, and I try not to tease him about it too much.”

Merlin smiled. _Good for Gwen._

“Morgana is still having nightmares, but nothing too worrisome. She’s been telling me about them, not that they’re very clear.”

Merlin stopped again. _So he knows about Morgana? Interesting._

“Gaius is fine, still pottering about the same as ever. I go to see him sometimes.”

“There have been several more magical attacks on the kingdom since you left. I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to worry you. I’m becoming quite adept at dodging them.”

 _Magical attacks, and I’m not there to protect him…_ In spite of his worries, he smiled at the next sentence.

“And don’t you _dare_ start blaming yourself for not being here, it’s for the best, and so far nothing serious has happened.”

_So far._

***

Merlin and Arthur continued writing to each other for years, Merlin telling Arthur about handfastings, and births and deaths, and Arthur telling Merlin about the more outrageous happenings at Court, until one day, six years after Merlin had left Camelot, Arthur didn’t reply to his letter.

He tried not to worry about it, but after more than two months had gone by, he was frantic.

When he finally got a letter, it wasn’t from Arthur.

It was from Morgana.

He stared at the letter for a good five minutes before reading it.

“Dear Merlin, Don’t worry, Arthur hasn’t forgotten about you. On the contrary, ever since you left he’s been moping about the castle looking lost. But something’s happened.”

Merlin froze. What had happened? Was Arthur alright? “Mercia has declared war on Camelot, and Uther has ridden against them. Arthur and the rest of the knights went with him.”

_What?! No! He can’t go to war if I’m not there to protect him._

_And what would you do on a battlefield?_ a snide little voice spoke up from a dark corner of his mind. _You could barely handle the bandits._

 _Shut up!_ he told the voice, and continued reading. “I would have written you sooner, but I wanted to wait until there was some news. They’ve won the first battle. Hopefully this war won’t go on too long. Morgana.”

There was a postscript. “Don’t worry. Arthur has Lancelot and all the rest of the knights to look after him. And if anything was going to happen, I’d know.”

He dug out one of his last pieces of parchment and replied, thanking Morgana for writing, and asking her to let him know if she heard…or _saw_ anything.

The next day he got a letter from Gaius, telling him that Arthur had gone to war.

He wrote back saying that he’d got a letter from Morgana telling him, and to write if he heard anything.

***

He got occasional reports from Morgana and Gaius, but nothing regarding Arthur. Only the fact that Morgana told him she hadn’t had any dreams about him soothed him at all.

“He’ll be fine,” his mother kept telling him, but Merlin more than anyone knew there were no guarantees.

A year and a half after he’d got Morgana’s first letter, he received a letter from Arthur.

It was his shortest letter yet, consisting of only four words: “Merlin, Come back. Arthur.” It was written in an untidy scrawl, unlike his usual precise script, and it was written on a torn piece of parchment.

He spared a thought for the fact that apparently Uther was dead, but he could only care for Arthur’s sake.

A tear dripped onto the paper, smudging the ink.

He scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Merlin? Are you alright?”

Merlin turned to his mother. “Arthur just wrote. He wants me to come back.”

His mother beamed at him. “You can start in the morning.”

***

Merlin was gone at first light, his belongings in saddlebags, riding the horse Arthur had given him.

He’d said farewell to his mother, promising to visit, and she’d laid a hand on his head in blessing.

He pushed the horse on until dusk, only resting once at midday, rubbing the horse down and letting her eat, and snatching a meal himself.

He reached Camelot in the afternoon of the second day after leaving Ealdor.

There were people scurrying everywhere, putting up banners, shouting orders, and the smells of roasting meat and spiced wine filled the air as the city prepared for the coronation. Arthur had managed to achieve his destiny without him.

He wasn’t sure what to do with his horse, since he couldn’t leave it in the palace stables, but Morgana came out to meet him.

“Merlin!” she beamed at him. “Take his horse,” she told a stableboy.

“Yes, milady.”

“How have you been?” Morgana asked him.

“Fine, considering. How’s Arthur?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s been kept so busy with the preparations for the coronation that he hasn’t had time to grieve, which might be just as well.”

Merlin nodded. “I’m going to go and see him.”

“That’s fine, but like I said, he’s been busy. He might not be there.”

***

Arthur’s rooms were empty when he came in, but there was a large wooden box lying open on the table. In it was a sheaf of papers and a piece of cloth.

He picked up one of the papers and looked at it. “Dear Arthur, Coburn didn’t survive the winter. He has two sons who can look after his wife, but the whole village is in mourning.”

He looked at another, “Dear Arthur, Hearn and Aldyth had a baby girl. I told you about them, they handfasted last spring.”

He glanced at a few more. It looked like Arthur had kept every letter he’d ever written him, no matter how short or inane.

He picked up the cloth, recognising his old neckerchief. It had a number of dark stains on it; what looked like blood.

He ran his hands over the stains. Arthur had been hurt. He’d been hurt and Merlin had been safe elsewhere.

“May I help you?”

Startled, he let the cloth fall to the table. He looked over to the door to see a young man with brown hair and a tanned face glaring at him. “Who are you?”

The boy looked offended. “Since you’re the intruder here, I’d think that _you_ should be the one explaining yourself.”

“I’m looking for Arthur.”

If possible, he looked even more offended. “ _King_ Arthur is presently engaged with preparations for the coronation. And I highly doubt he would want to see someone like you anyway!”

Merlin bristled. “Oh, yes he would! He sent for me, and I’d thank you to tell him that I got his message, and if he needs me I’ll be staying with Gaius.”

“I’ll tell him,” the boy promised, in a tone that suggested he was sure Arthur would tell him to stop wasting his time.

Merlin nodded and took himself out.

***

He went into Gaius’ workroom, wondering if he too would be gone, but he was mixing something up at his worktable.

“Gaius…”

Gaius held up a hand at him to keep quiet, as he added a pinch of dark powder to the bubbling mixture.

It fizzed and frothed over onto the table, and Gaius nodded and turned to him.

“Merlin! I was wondering when you’d get here! Have you seen Arthur?”

Merlin made a face. “No–he was _busy_. I was _dismissed._ ”

Gaius smiled at his indignation. “Well, the coronation’s got the whole city in an uproar, don’t take it personally.”

“Can I…can I stay here?” Merlin asked, suddenly uncertain of his welcome.

“Of course you can, Merlin, don’t be silly! You can have your old room.”

Merlin put his things down, and lay on the bed. He’d only meant to rest for a moment, but it had been a long journey, and in seconds he was asleep.

***

When he woke, his boots had been removed, and there was a blanket draped over him.

He went into the main room to find Gaius cooking dinner. “Sit down, it’ll be ready in a moment.”

“Sorry I fell asleep,” Merlin began.

“Nonsense, you obviously needed it.”

As they were finishing, there was a knock on the door.

Merlin opened it to find Arthur standing there.

“Arthur!”

“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur said, smiling and coming inside.

“Yes, well, I have a tincture to deliver to Lady Ailith, if you’ll excuse me, sire,” Gaius said, picking something up and bowing himself out.

“Burle gave me your message,” Arthur said.

“Who is he?” Merlin asked.

“My new manservant. Well,” Arthur continued before Merlin could explode with jealousy, “The latest one. For some reason I can’t seem to keep them.”

Merlin smiled. “How are you?” he ventured.

Arthur slumped against the wall. “God, it’s been brutal. Worse than the war! All these preparations to make, and _I_ have to approve everything! What do I know about preparing a feast?”

Merlin smiled sympathetically. “It’ll all be over soon.”

“I’m glad you’re back. There’s so much I need to do, yet, and I don’t know where to begin.”

Merlin moved over to Arthur, and put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Arthur sighed.

Somehow his hand migrated to behind Arthur’s neck, and he was leaning in and kissing him, and Arthur was kissing him back, as if they’d done it a thousand times.

Arthur moved to breathe in his ear, “I missed you. I kept all your letters.”

Merlin nodded. “I saw.”

“Don’t ever leave again,” Arthur pleaded.

“Never,” Merlin promised, and kissed him again.

***

Three days later, Arthur was crowned. The next day, he stood before his people.

“People of Camelot,” he intoned, projecting his voice so it could be heard in the rear of the square. “For nearly thirty years, magic has been seen as an evil to be feared. This should not be. For just as any man may be wicked or pure of heart, so it is with sorcerers. And just as the boar is a fierce creature which must be guarded against on the hunt, and yet no man would fear a rabbit, so it is with magical creatures. Thus, from this day forward, the practice of magic alone will not be punishable by death in Camelot.”

There was a moment of silence, then thunderous cheers. Arthur waited for the noise to die down, then continued. “But there will be those who wish harm to Camelot, who use magic as their means. Thus, we will have the services of a Court Sorcerer, who will defend Camelot from magical threats, as he has done before.” He motioned Merlin to step forward and stand beside him. “Merlin.”

All eyes turned to him, and a buzz of conversation started. “Who is that?”

“Merlin? _Merlin?_ ”

“But he’s just a servant, and anyway, he’s been gone for years!”

Merlin silenced them by producing a light that hung directly above his head, large enough and bright enough to be seen at the rear of the crowd.

Those gathered gave a collective gasp and drew away.

Arthur had anticipated this. “You need not fear him. He has saved my life several times, and I trust him more than any man in the kingdom.”

Merlin blushed furiously, glad it would be washed out by the light that still hovered above him.

“I only ask that you give him the respect that he deserves,” Arthur concluded, and stepped back, leaving Merlin standing alone.

Gwen and Gaius began applauding, followed by Morgana, and it spread until the entire square was cheering.

Merlin stood there until Arthur beckoned to him.

“Now that you’ve finished embarrassing me to within an inch of my life, can we go?”

Arthur grinned. “Yes. I’ve procured chambers for you next to mine.”

Merlin’s face fell. “But I thought…”

“Idiot,” Arthur responded fondly. “You don’t have to _use_ them!”

And Merlin grinned.


	2. My Heart Untravelled Fondly Turns to Thee<

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finds out Merlin’s back.

“Gods!” Arthur closed the door and slumped against it. “I just want this to be over!”

“Sire?”

Burle. He was _always_ there, hovering in the background, bowing and scraping and somehow managing to be so infernally _smug_ about it. He was worse than all the rest of them put together.

He missed Merlin.

“What is it?” Arthur managed, pushing off the wall.

“Someone was looking for you,” Burle said diffidently, taking his coat off and guiding him to a chair before putting it away.

“Oh?” Immediately his weariness was gone, as if it had never been. He’d sent for Merlin as soon as he got back, and he should be arriving any day now.

“You wouldn’t want to associate with him, Sire, he was obviously a peasant.”

 _Whereas you are a noble, is that it?_ He raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me what to do, Burle?”

An expression of horror crossed his servant’s face, and he immediately began babbling. “Oh, no, sire, of course not, sire, I’d never dream of–”

Arthur cut him off. Merlin would never have backed off like that, and while watching his current manservant flail might normally be amusing, he had other things to concentrate on. “This ‘peasant’…What did he look like?”

An expression of patronising condescension appeared on Burle’s face, and Arthur longed to shove him to the ground. “Obviously an untutored peasant, sire, scruffy–”

“ _What did he look like?!_ ” Arthur said, fed up with Burle’s pretensions of nobility.

“Rather skinny, black hair, large ears, wearing a neckerchief?”

Arthur got up. “That’s what I thought. What did he say?”

“He said he’d be staying at…Gaius’, I believe. ‘If you need him.’” Burle sniffed.

Arthur nodded. He moved to the wardrobe to get his coat.

“Sire?” Burle asked. “Where are you going?”

“To Gaius’, of course.”

“But sire–”

“Burle, that ‘untutored peasant’ was my _old_ manservant, and he did a much better job of it than _you!_ ”

Burle looked offended, but protested again nonetheless. “The preparations–”

“Preparations be damned!” Arthur snarled. “They can do without me for half an hour!”

“But–”

Arthur drew himself up. “I believe you forget your place. You also are a peasant, if you’ll remember, and if you talk back to me again you will be dismissed.” _I should just dismiss him anyway. I’m fed up with his sycophancy._ Merlin had told him if he replaced him to not get a bootlicker, but it seemed that that was all that was available.

And, leaving Burle grovelling apologetically on the floor, he headed for Gaius’. 


End file.
